Opening Pandora's Box
by Desastrus
Summary: "I'm sorry Brooklyn," Ming-Ming told him, her brown eyes uncharacteristically solemn. Pointing the gun at him, she pulled the trigger.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Beyblade belongs to Aoki Takao. I only own the plot and the OCs that might appear.

Warning: Mentions/hints of character death, some gory/graphic scenes and late updates(XP).

* * *

Brooklyn snapped his eyes open.

Plastic models of birds greeted him, hanging from the ceiling which had been painted to resemble the sky.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow. He laid there for a while, savouring the moment of peace that would soon be broken once he stepped out the place.

Without looking, he could tell what exactly could be found in the room. He was, after all, in his bedroom from many years ago, back when he was a kindergartner. He spent many after school hours in here, sitting on the chair opposite his best friend Mr. Teddy, drawing with his crayons or reading a book from the crammed bookshelf that stood just beside the bed.

Pushing the memories away, the nineteen year old released a yawn and sat up, his legs dangling awkwardly from the edge of the child-sized bed."What is it this time, Zeus?" he mumbled, running a hand though his ginger hair as he stood up and walked towards the door, stepping easily around the mess of matchbox cars and trains on the floor.

The beyblade in his pocket heated up briefly in response.

Shaking his head at the not-quite-answer, Brooklyn pushed the beech door open. Sunlight streamed into the room, momentarily blinding him. He took a deep breath and reluctantly stepped out, bracing himself for whatever vision that his bitbeast wanted to show him.

X

Brooklyn found himself standing in the middle of a street in Tokyo.

"Not again," he muttered, taking in the scene of destruction in front of him. It looked like a massive earthquake had hit the city, he thought, judging from the broken buildings, rubble and cracks on the ground. Eager to get the vision over and done with, Brooklyn began to walk.

Why oh why couldn't he get premonitions of pleasant things? World peace, for example, or maybe a solution for global warming. Heck, even something mundane like someone's wedding would be welcome. But noooooo, it _had_ to be disaster/chaos/plan-to-take-over-the-world or something along those lines.

Okay.

At least it was just an earthquake this time, not another apocalyptic scenario or anything like that.

A low chuckle echoed at the back of his mind, interrupting his thoughts. _Oh no, _master dearest_, it's not just a simple earthquake,_ Zeus crooned, a mocking smile evident in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

_Can't you feel it?_

Brooklyn closed his eyes and focused.

"Now that you mention it…"

His sentence trailed away as he began to walk to towards the heart of the city, to the source of dark energy he was sensing. It was extremely similar to Zeus' aura, he realised, his pace getting faster and faster with every step he took.

It couldn't be him again, could it? Brooklyn thought frantically, his legs pumping as he raced up a slope. He couldn't be responsible for all this destruction again- he had turned over a new leaf! He had friends now, he wouldn't do-

His foot suddenly met air.

"Ooof!"

His face slammed into the ground, gravity giving him no mercy as he tumbled down the slope on the other side, pieces of rock and rubble digging into his body. Eventually, he slowed down and came to a halt. He flopped onto his back, breathing heavily as he stared up at the spinning sky. His eyes closed and he turned to his side. Brooklyn scrunched his nose as a thick metallic smell hit him and opened his eyes.

A pair of dull green orbs stared vacantly at him. Lank green hair hung around a dirty, pale face. It was a boy, his body a bloody mess.

Alarmed, Brooklyn scrambled back. His hand met something sticky- he looked at it- and red.

Blood.

Slowly he turned.

It was another body; a girl with dark hair, a katana embedded deep in her chest. Swirling patterns glimmered on the katana's blade.

Averting his eyes, Brooklyn shakily stood up. He took a deep breath to calm himself, gagging slightly on the stench of blood and death. Slowly he scanned the area in front of him.

He was standing inside a large crater, dead bodies lying here and there. Studiously, he avoided looking at them, choosing instead to focus on the dark aura he felt earlier. Brooklyn treaded slowly towards it, hoping, praying that whatever that caused all this wasn't him.

He caught sight of himself crouched over an extremely familiar blue-haired boy. Curious, he moved nearer.

Time seemed to slow down as he watched the other Brooklyn plunge his hands into the boy's ravaged chest. A cruel smirk twisted his face as he ripped out a pulsing heart, holding it up to the sky like a trophy.

Sick with horror, Brooklyn backed away, just as a triumphant caw pierced the air.

No.

_No. _

* * *

AN: I hope that wasn't too weird, XD. Review please?


	2. Chapter 1

Brooklyn woke up, gasping.

He had fallen asleep in the park; beams of sunlight filtered through the canopies of the trees he was lying under, bathing him in patches of yellow light. Birds chirped from above and children's laughter floated from the playground nearly. The familiar sounds soothed him as he took deep breaths to calm his thumping heart.

"You okay, mister?" A quiet voice asked.

He craned his neck to see a young girl staring curiously at him, appearing upside down from his position. He forced out a small smile, hiding the uneasiness he felt. "I'm fine. I just had a bad dream," he explained, sitting up to look properly at the kid. She couldn't be older than six, with pigtailed light brown hair and big blue eyes.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Must be really scary," she said solemnly, as she fiddled with the beyblade she held in her hands. Brooklyn chuckled as he stood up, raking his shaky fingers through his hair to dislodge the leaves and twigs that had somehow made their way there.

"Yeah, it was," he agreed. He hesitated before adding, more to himself than to the girl, "the scariest I've ever had."

.

"Hiya Brooklyn!" Ming-Ming chirped, looking up from the television as soon he stepped inside their shared apartment.

"Hey," he greeted back as he kicked off his shoes. He could feel her gaze boring into his back, watching as he he slipped his feet into a pair of slippers. From the way she was fidgeting, Brooklyn could tell she was excited about something but he couldn't summon the energy to ask. All he wanted to do right now was to lie in bed. The premonition had drained him, leaving him with a headache pounding at the back of his head. So he said as little as possible and headed to his room.

"Brooklyn, wait!" Ming-Ming called. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head, teal meeting honey brown. "There's something I gotta tell you!"

From the excited look in her eye, Brooklyn knew she wasn't going to take no for an answer. He sucked in a breath and expelled it with a whoosh. He went over to the living room and plopped himself down on the armchair opposite her.

"So?" Brooklyn prompted, when she didn't say anything.

"Good news! But we gotta wait for Mystel! I promised him I'd tell both of you at the same time," she explained, looking ready to burst as she twisted the hem of her shirt, grinning widely. "Hey Mystel, hurry up, will you!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Mystel told her as he strolled in from the kitchen, "but before you say anything," he began, holding up a hand to silence his friends, "I've got some really, really good news from Crusher:"

He paused, grinning as he took in his friends' expectant faces.

"Monica's surgery was a success! He'll be staying with her until she recovers fully."

"That's fantastic!" Ming-Ming squealed, hugging the cushion on her lap in delight. Brooklyn let a small smile creep across his face and nodded in agreement.

"And Garland emailed earlier; he said he won't be back till end of next week. His family thing went longer than expected."

"Aw, poor thing," Ming-Ming cooed, "he looked really miserable when I Skype-d him a few days ago. But anyways, it's my turn now!" She said, alternating her gaze between Brooklyn and Mystel as she bounced in her seat.

Brooklyn's head hurt just watching her.

She took a deep breath. "I got us tickets to the party at Pandemonium tonight!"

There was a brief silence.

"You didn't," Mystel breathed, looking disbelievingly at her. Brooklyn snorted softly. Pandemonium was a club downtown. It was hip, trendy and very, very exclusive. Ming-Ming and Mystel had been trying to get invitations for months to no avail. Brooklyn on the other hand, couldn't care less. His head felt heavy as the headache got worse. Resting his elbow on the armrest, he propped his head in a hand and leaned back in the armchair. He massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger, trying to alleviate the pain as the other two yakked away.

"I so did," Ming-Ming sang proudly -his head twinged- waving three tickets in Mystel's face. He grabbed her hand, bringing her hand closer to eye level. His eyes crossed as he read the words, causing Ming-Ming to giggle. Her giggles faded and a tinny, high pitched sound filled his ears.

The room lurched unpleasantly and a wave of nausea swept over him.

Abruptly, Brooklyn stood up, hand pressed to his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up as he ran to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet and retched.

Temporary relief.

The stench of vomit permeated the air, inducing another round of retching. Tears filled his eyes as the sour bile burnt his throat raw. Chest heaving, Brooklyn pressed his forehead to the cool porcelain to stop the room from spinning.

Behind him, rapid footsteps sounded, alerting him of his friends' presence.

.

Mystel and Ming-Ming loitered by the doorway, looking at each other uncertainly. When Brooklyn started to heave again, Ming-Ming shoved Mystel in.

"Help him," she hissed, nose scrunched in disgust. Her eyes however, betrayed her concern. Mystel went in, dropping down on his knee to rub soothing circles on Brooklyn's back. His retching stopped after a couple of minutes. Brooklyn's breathing was heavy as he slumped on the floor. Mystel felt his forehead with the back of his hand. Brooklyn was a little clammy but nothing else was out of the ordinary.

"You don't have a fever," he murmured, a puzzled note in his voice. Initially he suspected Brooklyn had gastroenteritis but he wasn't so sure now. "Maybe you should see the doctor, just in case."

"Nah," Brooklyn rasped as he got up unsteadily. "It's probably just some bug. Nothing aspirin won't cure." Almost reluctantly, he met Mystel's gaze and forced a smile, teal eyes weary but reassuring.

Unsure of what to say, Mystel just nodded and watched as Brooklyn washed his face at the sink. Now that Brooklyn thought he wasn't watching him, he let his guard down. Mystel could detect a haunted look to his normally cheerful eyes. They reminded him of the hollow eyes of the old men in his tribe, those who had survived the war and seen the horrors of death.

A certain memory from when he was still with BEGA flashed in his mind.

_He was scaling the wall outside of headquarters to get back to his room after a night of stargazing on the roof when he heard hushed voices coming from the window next to his. Brooklyn's room. The urgency in their tones made him curious, so he peeked in. _

_Brooklyn was thrashing in his bed, crying about a fire in his sleep. Scientists stood around his bed, some holding clipboards while others attached medical instruments at various spots of his body. Boris stood by the side, arms crossed at he stared at Brooklyn, a strange glint in his eye. Suddenly he moved. Not wanting to be caught peeping, Mystel quickly pulled himself away, back pressed against the brick wall as he stood there for a couple of minutes, listening to the excited murmurs inside. Curious, but deciding that it wasn't any of his business -Brooklyn _was_ a bit strange- he pulled himself into his window, landing soundlessly into his room. _

_The next morning, the radio reported that a fire had broken out in a hospital in the next town, killing over two hundred people. Wasn't Brooklyn dreaming about a fire last night? Mystel glanced at Brooklyn who was pushing his breakfast around his plate, his normally cheerful eyes blank. Boris walked by, asking Brooklyn if he was alright. The redhead started and looked up, and nodded with a smile that looked more like a grimace. Boris patted his shoulder kindly and went away, his concerned mask melting into a sort of sick delight. Mystel shivered involuntarily._

"_What's up with him?" Ming-Ming had asked, jerking her chin in Brooklyn's direction as she flopped into the chair beside his with a slice of toast. _

_Mystel just shrugged. "Who knows?" He didn't want to reveal his suspicions to anyone just yet. Besides, Ming-Ming wouldn't believe him anyway. That night, he snuck to Boris' office to look through Brooklyn's files. The things he found were extremely interesting. How knew people like Brooklyn existed?_

"You had a vision, didn't you?" Mystel stated.

Brooklyn froze in the midst of washing his hands.

Seconds ticked by.

He nodded.

A morbid sense of curiosity stole over him. "What," Mystel began hoarsely. He cleared his throat. "What did you see? Maybe we can stop it."

Ming-Ming breathed in sharply. "Mystel!"

Startled, Mystel turned. He had forgotten she was there.

She glared at him, eyes frigid. "Stop encouraging him," she hissed, shaking her head incredulously, aqua hair flying everywhere. "You know there're no such things as visions," she spat, "Brooklyn's just- he's just unwell! And you! You're not helping, urgh!" She spun on her heel and stomped away.

Mystel watched her go quietly; Ming-Ming could deny it all she wanted but he knew that she believed in Brooklyn's premonitions. They all did. Brooklyn wasn't crazy- he was _gifted_.

Brooklyn's face was shadowed as he stood frozen by the sink, gripping the sides of the sink, knuckles white. Water gushed from the tap. Reaching over, Mystel switched off the water and busied himself with putting things back in order. "She doesn't mean that," he began quietly. "You kno-"

"You can't stop it, Mystel," he whispered, interrupting him, staring down at the sink. He shot him a sideways look, holding Mystel's gaze with terrified eyes. "None of us can."

.

After her outburst at the bathroom, Ming-Ming disappeared into her room. She threw herself on her bed, burying her face in a pillow. Tears of guilt dampened the fabric. She'd hurt Brooklyn with her words, and she was going to do more. A hell lot more. She cried harder when she thought what she was going to do next.

_Why the hell are you crying about that, girlie? You knew this would happen sooner or later! I told you not the get attached didn't I?_

"SHUT UP!" Ming-Ming screamed into the pillow.

_Tsk, temper, temper. You _know_ I'm right. And what was that all about, hm? 'Brooklyn's just sick'? Hah! Don't kid yourself, hun._

"Shut the hell up! Or else I'll-"

_Or you'll what? Get rid of me? You know that's impossible. Well, at least, not without offing yourself in the process._

"SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!" Ming-Ming curled into herself, her hands pressed to her ears as she tried to block out the other voice. "GO AWAY!"

_Make me, Ming darling, make m-_

Suddenly a flash of pale pink light flooded the room. The air shimmered and a pure white bird with a golden crest materialized, filling the room with its sheer size. It fixed its green gaze at Ming-Ming, filling her with a sense of calm and warmth.

_Not you again! Ugh!_

Ming-Ming could feel her other self fade away into her subconscious. Her arms dropped to her sides and she sagged into the soft mattress, relieved. No doubt, she'd return again but for now, Ming-Ming decided to enjoy her peace. "Thank you, Venus."

Venus cooed softly in reply, nuzzling her head to her wielder's cheek before disappearing into her bit.

X

AN: Omg, I'm so, so sorry for the INCREDIBLY late update! I'm finally writing again after months of writer's block. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lost count of how many rewrites this had but I hope it made up for the long wait. I'll do my best to upload the next chapter as soon as I can. Thanks for reading and please review!


	3. Chapter 2

"You can't stop it, Mystel," he whispered, interrupting him, staring down at the sink. He shot him a sideways look, holding Mystel's gaze with terrified eyes. "None of us can."

A chill ran down his spine as he held Brooklyn's gaze, but before he could probe deeper, Brooklyn pushed past him, head bowed. A slammed door told Mystel that the prodigy had shut himself in his room, just as Ming-Ming did. That in itself was strange- he usually went outdoors whenever he was feeling upset. So what _did_ he see in his vision? Mystel wondered as he headed out to the living room, a frown puckering his forehead. He flopped on the sofa and tried to think. It had to be something really bad, he reasoned, fidgeting, but what? Brooklyn said it was something unstoppable. He cast his thought around for scenarios that fit the criteria. It could be anything; the possibilities were _endless_.

Realizing that he wouldn't be getting anywhere, and itching for a good run to clear his head, Mystel ran to the balcony -snapping on his mask as he went- and tossed himself off. A smile appeared on his lips as he fell, spinning through the air, arms and legs spread out, the wind whipping wildly at his hair and clothes.

Somewhere above him, a woman screamed.

His smile morphed into a grin.

He brought his arms forward and grabbed hold of a ledge. Using the momentum, he did a flip and landed on said ledge. "I'm alright!" he shouted, waving cheekily at the stunned woman who was staring at him from the next building, eyes as wide as dinner plates. Mystel gave her a salute before letting himself fall backward, laughing as the woman shrieked again, adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins.

.

Ming-Ming opened her door, revealing a windswept Mystel. She frowned at him, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "What do you want, Mystel?" she asked coolly, wincing internally at how nasal her voice sounded, ruining the hostile image she was trying to project to her teammate. She didn't like the glint in his eyes.

"We, are going to Pandemonium tonight," he announced brightly, "and you," he pointed to Ming-Ming, "better get ready. We're leaving in an hour."

Ming-Ming snorted disbelievingly. "You wanna go to Pandemonium after what happened today? Are you crazy? No." She shot him a withering look at his nod and proceeded to shut the door, only to be held back by a foot. A pointy-slippered foot. She gave him an unamused stare and Mystel held his hands up.

"Hear me out, Mimi," he said, and when he was certain that Ming-Ming wasn't going to shut the door in his face, he withdrew his foot. "Today is the best time to go and relax ourselves. We need to take our minds of Brooklyn's vi-" At Ming-Ming's glare, he back-pedaled, "I mean, we need to take our minds off whatever that happened today. We can discuss it later, when we're all calm, yeah?"

Ming-Ming nodded slowly mulling it over. What he was saying made sense, but what about Brooklyn? As if reading her mind, Mystel quickly spoke up.

"I asked Brooklyn- he said he'd come."

Ming-Ming knew when she'd lost. "Ugh, fine," she muttered, conceding. Mystel gave her a genuinely happy grin and she felt a smile tugging at her own lips. She forced it away, not wanting to give the boy anymore satisfaction and shut the door.

"Remember, be ready in one hour! ONE HOUR!" Came his muffled voice. Ming-Ming snorted as she went over to her closet, stepping over fashion magazines, in search of the perfect outfit. One hour to get ready?

Pft, _as if_.

He'll be _lucky_ if she finished her make-up in an hour.

.

Three and a half hours later, Ming-Ming's door burst open. "I'm done!" she sang, her six-inch heels clacking as she marched into the living room, clad in a short black corset dress.

She stopped short.

Mystel was sprawled on the couch, mouth agape as he dozed. His black tee had ridden up, revealing a set of well-defined abs. Brooklyn, on the other hand, was in a more respectable position; he was sitting in the armchair, a hand propping up his head, legs on the coffee table. She scowled at the scene before her, hands on her hips. Honestly, she didn't take _that_ long.

"Come on boys, up, up, UP! Time to go!" she hollered, loud enough to wake the dead. Brooklyn stirred and opened his eyes blearily but Mystel –her blood was really boiling now- merely grunted and rolled over. Thoroughly annoyed, she grabbed a cushion and smacked him in the face.

"Oof!" Startled, Mystel fell like a sack of potatoes. He rubbed his head. "What the hell was that for?" he grumbled, squinting up at the aqua-haired girl.

"That's what you get for falling asleep," she replied, smiling sweetly as she twirled the cushion like a basketball, a hand resting on her hip.

"Psh, yeah, we fell asleep waiting for you," Mystel retorted as he picked himself off the floor, pulling his shirt back down. Ming-Ming ignored him and started tapping her foot in an impatient manner. Rolling his eyes and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'women' under his breath, Mystel stomped to the bathroom to wash his face.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as soon as Mystel was. Ming-Ming studiously avoided looking over to Brooklyn who was by now fully awake. He was leaning forwards, elbows on his knees as he stared interestedly at the carpet. Ming-Ming took a deep breath, suddenly nervous at what she was about to do- the famous Ming-Ming Love wasn't used to apologising.

She cleared her throat tentatively. Well, here goes nothing. "Brook," she started, studying her manicured nails, "Uh, I'm, erm, I'm really sorry about just now. I shouldn't have said any of those stuff." She observed him from the corner of her eye. A couple of seconds passed. She bit her lip, now feeling foolish as she replayed her lame apology in her head. "Look, it's fine if y-"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted, still staring at the carpet. "I don't blame you for thinking that way." He raked his fingers through his hair and gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Ming-Ming smiled uncertainly back and quickly looked away, unable to meet his clear gaze for very long, guilt writhing in the pit of her stomach.

.

Brooklyn stifled a yawn as he lounged in his seat, drink in hand. It was his third one that night; the first was shoved in his hand by Ming-Ming and Mystel. He didn't want to drink at first but they insisted. To relax, they said, and they were right. The buzz that filled his head was surprisingly pleasant and it kept his mind off the day's events.

He cast a languid eye around to look for his friends- he'd waved them off earlier as they wouldn't stop fussing. He couldn't see Ming-Ming; she had disappeared among the throbbing crowd on the dance floor. Mystel was at a nearby table, impressing the crowd with his tricks. Brooklyn caught his eye and smiled, giving him a salute with the glass. He shifted his attention elsewhere, tapping his foot idly to the beat of the music a band was playing on the stage.

He leaned back and settled on watching the band to pass the time. They were pretty decent, he supposed, letting the music wash over him. He scanned the band members, letting his gaze linger on the only female- the bassist. As if feeling his eyes on her, she looked up, dark auburn hair falling messily over her face. Their eyes met and she quirked an eyebrow, a faint, amused smile playing on her lips. She looked away first, looking towards a spot behind him, her smile vanishing only to be replaced by a frown.

Curious, Brooklyn followed her gaze and came face to face with a torso. The owner bent down -the plunging neckline of her lacy top giving him an excellent view of her cleavage- and a pale angular face, framed by short ebony hair came into view. Zeus growled appreciatively at the sight of the scantily clad female. Brooklyn ignored him, focusing instead on the small beauty mark on the girl's right cheekbone.

"Hey there," the girl said, her full lips curling into a playful smile. "Mind if I join you?"

Brooklyn shrugged and looked away, back to the stage. Taking his response as a yes, she sidled into the space beside him, her shoulder bumping into his. "Thanks."

He shrugged again.

"So," she began, undeterred by his lack of words. "Salima, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

She jerked her chin towards the stage. "Salima." Seeing the confusion in his face, she rolled her eyes. "Salima, that chick you were checking out earlier?"

Oh. Her. "I wasn't checking her out."

"If you say so," she said in a sing-song voice. "But, word of advice: don't bother. She already has a boyfriend, the band's lead, Zane, Lane, Kane or something like that. Could you believe that? So unprofessional." She said with a disdainful flick of her wrist.

"Right," Brooklyn looked at her from the corner of his eye, wondering where she was going with this.

She grinned up at him. "So, why don't you check _me_ out instead?" she suggested, her tone sly. Before Brooklyn knew what was happening, she was in his lap, arms snaked around his neck, her body pressed close to his.

Instinctively, he leaned away. "What are you doing?" He demanded with a glare, grabbing hold of her shoulders to push her away. He might be drunk, but he wasn't that far gone to let some unknown girl near him.

She just laughed, her sweet-smelling breath fanning his face and traced a finger down his jawline. Involuntarily, he shuddered at the ticklish sensation and she laughed again, tipping his face closer to hers. Obsidian eyes stared deeply into his teal ones, soft and persuading and somehow, somehow his resistance crumbled.

His grip on her loosened. Her hand grasped the back of his head and their faces drew nearer, until their lips a mere centimetre apart. His eyes fluttered shut and the girl crushed her lips to his.

A hot wave of desire swept over him and he kissed her back hungrily. In the background, Zeus cackled approvingly.

But all too soon, she pulled away. Brooklyn made a sound of protest from the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering open and the girl smirked.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she whispered, their foreheads touching. He nodded. "Good," she gave him a quick peck on the lips and slid off him, taking his hand. Dazedly, he stood up and trailed after her, like a puppy. She chuckled. "Oh, we're going to have _so _much fun, Brooklyn dear."

* * *

AN: DUN DUN DUN! What's going to happen to Brooklyn? Who was that girl? Where is she taking him? Hint: she's not an OC (no prizes for getting it right ;P). Anyway, let me know what you think and your speculations! **some stuff** thinks that Ming-Ming is a CIA agent (not quite, but _sort of_ XD). I wonder what do the rest of you think?

I hope I did okay for the last part and that it didn't move along too fast, lol. I don't normally write that kind of scenes. Future chapters might be a bit slower since I'm back in uni and will be busy with assignments and crap. Any news will be posted up in my profile. Well, anyway, thanks for reading and review, er, comment? :D


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